


Oath

by orphan_account



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Also I suck at holiday spirit, M/M, The cats are real, This is toothrotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Cats in matching sweaters and a walk through Tokyo at the most beautiful time of the year.
Relationships: Ichinose Tokiya/Ittoki Otoya
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Oath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lana_Fair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lana_Fair/gifts).



> Gonna be real here, I didn't realize it was Christmas Eve until 2:30am today, so this has been what I've been dedicated to for most of the day. Holiday spirit isn't really my thing, so I won't promise anything, uh . . . good lol.
> 
> Also, heads up, this is in the same universe as Lana's fic where the prince cats are real cats, although it would be a few years later, since they're now fully grown and healthy.
> 
> Christmas Eve in Japan is a romantic holiday, for anyone who doesn't understand why the rest of STARISH/QN/HEAVENS isn't in this fic. Think of Valentine's Day except everything is decorated in beautiful Christmas lights and the general holiday of Christmas is simply about happiness (and fried chicken).

Tokiya knows that Otoya knits. The members of STARISH and Quartet Night routinely get knitted scarves and mittens from him every year in their respective colors and different patterns, and Tokiya watched him pore over his knitting for almost an extra month this year when he decided the HEAVENS members needed them as presents too. It took quite a while to package and wrap sixteen sets of scarves and mittens too. 

Tokiya hasn’t received a set since the first year they lived together. It’s not a sleight at all; he just loves the first set enough that he still wears it constantly when it gets cold and he would much rather Otoya bought him something rather than spending tens of hours trying to hide what he’s knitting whenever Tokiya comes into the apartment they share. Instead, they give each other experiences; mountain climbing and hiking and the trip to Okinawa Tokiya bought them last year that Otoya still claims was too much money to spend (and it was, but it was nine days in Okinawa, lounging on a private beach with no obligations, so he thinks it was well worth it). 

So, when Otoya comes out on Christmas Eve, chasing a loudly protesting Rosso out of the bedroom with a scrap of knitted fabric in his mouth, Tokiya can say he’s very nonplussed about the whole thing. Or, at least he is until Iris pads out, his tail swishing happily as he sits on Tokiya’s lap in his brand new red and purple striped sweater. Rosso seems more interested in taking his around the house (Tokiya recognizes this behavior as the same thing he does every time he gets a new toy, where he brings it to all of the corners of their apartment as if to show it around).

“Do you need help?” he asks, and Otoya groans. 

“Please?”

Tokiya places Iris on the couch cushion beside him before getting on the floor and making a little “ _pskpskpsp_ ” sound for Rosso. Otoya calls him the Rosso Whisperer because he’s been traditionally the only one who can coax the finicky feline into doing things like this. As expected, their little orange cat brings it over to him and accepts his fate with only a little mewling as the sweater is slipped over his head. He makes a final noise of protest before clawing his way up Tokiya’s leg to cling to him, and Tokiya obediently picks him up as he returns to his seat on the couch. Otoya finally gives a sigh of relief at that task completed.

“So, the cats got sweaters this year?” Tokiya asks, a little surprised. He’s never seen Otoya knit something quite that big before, or something that has as many pieces as a sweater does.

Otoya flushes. “And treats too.”

“At least Iris likes his.” Their black cat has already curled himself up in Otoya’s lap now that he’s seated on the floor, purring away as Otoya scratches his head. Rosso seems a little less excited, although he has much fluffier fur than Iris, so it’s probably quite a bit warmer.

“He does. My good boy.” Otoya gives him little chin scritches, and the purring gets louder. Sometimes Tokiya thinks about asking Otoya whether he’s still mad about Tokiya stopping in that alleyway and coming home three hours late that night with an abandoned kitten, but he decides not to ruin it. The Christmas cake is on the counter, the lights on the tree are sparkling, and it’s warm in the apartment. “But, uh . . . well, open this.” 

Tokiya takes the offered lump of wrapping paper. It’s soft and rectangular without defined corners. It definitely feels like fabric inside. It’s not wrapped particularly well, but that’s just the hallmark of Otoya’s . . . signature style. 

And then he sees red and purple stripes when the layer of wrapping paper is revealed, and he looks at Otoya for a moment to confirm.

He nods. “It’s probably a little bit of a selfish thing,” he says, looking away like he does when he’s self-conscious, “but we’re all a family, right? So I thought it might be kind of fun to uh . . . dresslikeit.” The last three words come out all in an unintelligible blob of sound, but Tokiya’s gotten the idea from the rest of it.

On the list of ridiculous things he’s done for Otoya over the past ten years, wearing a matching sweater with their cats is fairly low, so he peels his own sweatshirt off to put it on. It’s comfortable, and it fits a lot like the grey one in his closet that he likes best. Like normal, Otoya’s work is impeccable, and the yarn he’s used is soft. If it weren’t such garish colors (not that he doesn’t love their colors together, but on clothing, they’re a _little_ much), it’s something he’d consider wearing more often. “Well?” he asks when Otoya merely stares at him. “Where’s yours?”

Otoya’s face lights up. It’s hard to remember how easy he is to please for things like this sometimes, because he always seems to have the fear that Tokiya will reject him, even though he can’t remember a single time he has. “Really?”

“Really.”

Otoya bounds up, dumps Iris in Tokiya’s lap too (Iris simply rolls over to get belly rubs from his other dad), and disappears into the bedroom. He comes back a moment later in his own matching sweater. “You really don’t mind?” he asks even as he cuddles up to Tokiya on the couch.

He chuckles. “I really don’t. It actually leads fairly well into my own present for you.”

Otoya sits up, batting his eyelashes as if that is going to get him his present faster, and Tokiya can’t help but snort.

The nerves are starting to come back, bubbling up in his throat so that he has to swallow them down. Still, he reminds himself how much he wants this, and the world stops spinning for a moment as he centers himself. “I thought a lot about what to get you this year,” he says, forcing his tone to remain as even as possible. “We’ve been to every continent thanks to Maji Love Kingdom. We’ve seen things that are amazing, and there’s still more of the world to see. But there’s one place I want to go tonight. So . . . come take a walk with me?” He ushers the cats off his lap and offers Otoya his hand. It’s obvious that the redhead is more than confused, but he does take it, and Tokiya helps him put his jacket and shoes on at the door.

Outside, Tokyo is beautiful. Fukuoka was beautiful during the holidays, but it has nothing on Tokyo’s lights and sounds. Everywhere is decorated, twinkling lights lining the buildings. They walk hand in hand like they have so many Christmas Eves before, mingling amongst the other couples taking strolls with their loved ones. The walk isn’t far, and Tokiya recognizes when Otoya catches on to where they’re going, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just keeps on their light conversation until they arrive in front of Saotome Academy.

“We met here almost ten years ago,” Tokiya says, stepping through the gates to give them a small modicum of privacy from anyone passing. “As I’m sure you remember, it wasn’t a great time in my life, nor do I think it was yours.” He squeezes Otoya’s hand and gets one in return. “But if I had to do it all again—becoming HAYATO, learning what it means to put my heart into my songs, working so hard I fell ill—I would. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, just to be able to stand here with you now for even a minute more.”

“Tokiya,” Otoya says. His eyes are large and shining with tears he’s rapidly trying to blink back.

“I went from having no one to having so much. I have a family again. We even have matching sweaters,” he jokes, even though he’s starting to get emotional too and his voice cracks on the last word. “And I know it’s foolish because we can’t, for various reasons, but still . . . if there ever comes a day . . .” He releases Otoya’s hand, which is met with a sound of protest, but he needs it to pull the box from his pocket. It’s felt heavy ever since he put the coat on, but now it feels frightfully light, even though it holds so much. His hopes and dreams and desires for the future; all of it sits in there with the thin gold band that is revealed when he opens the top. “If it’s ever possible, will you marry me?”

Otoya’s lower lip quivers, and for a moment, Tokiya thinks it might be a rejection, but then his voice comes out, thin and reedy. “Always,” he says, nodding. He steps forward, ignoring the box in favor of framing Tokiya’s face with his hands. His fingertips are cold against Tokiya’s cheeks. “Even if it’s not legal, even if we can’t because it’s in our contracts . . . I will always love you. Even if we’re only married in the emotional sense of the word, I will always be with you,” he promises, and he’s crying hard enough that his voice keeps quavering over the words. The acceptance is quite a bit less energetic than he had expected, but somehow, this feels like it means more. A quiet moment between them. An oath exchanged. 

Tokiya takes Otoya’s left hand in his and slides the ring on. “Until death do us part,” he says through the lump in his throat.

Otoya tugs him to his feet and presses their foreheads together. “Until death do us part,” he agrees. 


End file.
